


Knifepoint

by steelrunner



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Begging, Cock Worship, Face-Fucking, Graphic Description, Humiliation, Kinktober, Knifeplay, M/M, Masks, Mirror Sex, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16241672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelrunner/pseuds/steelrunner
Summary: Lance goes on an undercover mission among the Galra elite - but unfortunately, one of the guests of honor has a particular interest in him.





	Knifepoint

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s my latest take on Kinktober: I might be too busy to write a fic for every day, but I figure it counts if I shove seven together and call it a weekly fic (even though it is a little late.) The out of character tag is for Lotor; as nasty as he may get in canon, he’s definitely not a sadistic rapist.
> 
> Kinktober Days 1 - 7: Masks, Begging, Knife Play, Mirror Sex, Sadism/Masochism, Cock Worship, and Aphrodisiacs.

For a race that didn’t seem to know what the word ‘fun’ meant, the Galra threw pretty nice parties. The scene unfolding in the rotunda was one that Lance’s niece would have gone agog for if she had seen it on TV: rings of masked dancers filled the floor, dressed in elegant sets of formal armor and dramatic tunics and gowns that wouldn’t have been out of place in some gothic drama. More guests darted in and out of curtained alcoves on the balconies above, lit by yellow and violet lanterns that hung between them. Luckily Galra weren’t the only ones in attendance, or Lance would have never pulled off his guise as another guest - most of the others hardly spared him a glance anyway, since his lack of purple fur and a nasty smirk apparently meant he wasn’t worth talking to.

Lance touched the edge of his black domino mask briefly, making sure it was all the way on. He continued to make his way around the edges of the dance floor. That was a good thing, he reminded himself; the less people paying attention to him, the less people there would be to see him picking up a dead drop from an undercover Blade.

But the drop wouldn’t be made for another hour, according to the chronometer Lance kept sneaking glances at.He sighed a little, and stopped to lean against one of the room’s many pillars. He had to find some way to kill time before the drop was completed, and just standing around would make him super conspicuous. There were a few servers floating around with plates of food; maybe he should track one of them down…

An arm suddenly snaked around his waist, and Lance let out a stifled squeak as he was pulled back against a much taller, more toned figure. The hair on the back of his neck stood upright as a horribly familiar voice said, “What a surprise! I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Lance glared over his shoulder, craning his neck to meet Lotor’s eyes. He looked like even more of a spoiled prince than usual: the mask he wore was metallic black, carved in jagged patterns offset by white and violet crystals. “Nice to see you too,” he growled.

“Yes, I can certainly tell by that smile on your face,” Lotor said. He smiled down at Lance mockingly.

Lance made to twist out of Lotor’s grip, but a sudden pressure against his side stopped him; when he looked down, he saw a long knife partially hidden by Lotor’s grip, the flat side of it planted against his gut.

“Ah ah ah,” Lotor said under his breath. “Don’t be so rude and run away now.” Slightly louder, he continued, “Come, take a walk with me and we can finish our discussion.”

He stepped forward, and Lance had no choice but to move with him. Lotor shifted his stance both to keep the knife in position and one arm tucked around Lance’s waist, as though they were like any of the other couples strolling around the room. Lance still glared at him sidelong. Even among all the commanders parading their wealth here, Lotor still looked appropriately majestic: A dark cape with a ruff of black fur was draped over one shoulder, and there was a silver circlet on his head. As they walked, people dropped the occasional bow or nod to him as he crossed their paths.

“What do you want from me?” Lance said, trying to keep quiet despite the hostility in his voice. Did Lotor know about the dead drop? He hadn’t hinted at it yet, but if he knew the Blade would have no idea how much danger they were in. Never mind _himself_. “How long have you been watching me?”

Lotor smiled pleasantly at a guest they passed by, not thrown off in the least. “Oh, not long at all. Like I said, you’re quite a surprise.” He changed their direction to approach the stairs that led up to the balconies, where there would probably be more privacy. All the better to commit torture and/or murder. “But now that you are here, I have just the job in mind for you.”

Lance gritted his teeth as they climbed the wide stone stairs, all the way up to the third balcony. Lotor didn’t say anything beyond polite murmurs to the other guests as he steered Lance around them, finally stopped at an empty alcove. Lotor finally let go of Lance as they entered, and Lance immediately pulled away, watching with clenched fists as Lotor drew the curtain shut and fastened it.

“Well?” Lance said. “Spit it out, because I’m about five ticks from calling back-up and blowing this whole place to - ”

Lotor turned on him, grabbing Lance by the collar of his tunic, shoving him backwards until Lance hit the stone wall behind them. Lance struggled, but Lotor pressed up against him, pinning him down; the cold metal of the knife pressed against Lance’s chin, and he stopped.

“Don’t get mouthy with me,” Lotor said in a low voice. “Or do - I’d be happy to call the guards and have them take care of you, and anyone else here they might be suspicious of.”

Lance swallowed hard. Real fear began to twist in his guts, and instead of snapping back, he said, “F-fine.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Yes…” Lance said, and Lotor gave him a look. He clenched his teeth. “… _sir_.”

“How perceptive you are.” Lotor’s eyes dipped to land on the knife, as if he was memorizing the way it looked against Lance’s skin. Lance had to keep himself from swallowing hard when he looked back up at him.

“See, I found myself with a sudden…craving for some company,” Lotor went on, as if he didn’t still have a knife to Lance’s throat. There was a nasty insinuation to his tone that made the fear in Lance’s gut flare up all the more. “Unfortunately, it won’t do to offend any of the guests here, and the waitstaff aren’t the property of the Empire, so it looks like you’ll have to do.”

Lance stared at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t be hearing this. Did Lotor really want him to -

Lotor shifted to bring them closer together, and Lance went cold as he felt the unmistakable press of a bulge against his stomach, right where Lotor’s crotch would be. The tension of the knife on his skin became a little firmer.

“How about this, Paladin?” Lotor said. “I’ll make you a deal. You’ll give me what I want, and if you behave you won’t leave here with so much as a scratch. I’ll even let you stay the rest of the night and finish whatever meager mission you’ve been assigned.”

He didn’t mention the alternative, but Lance could read between the lines. He knew he should try to be brave and fight back - but if Lotor didn’t care what he wanted now, what would he do if Lance tried to get away and Lotor caught him?

Lance’s breath started coming faster even as his body locked up in fear. He couldn’t even wrap his head around the thought of reaching for the communicator in his boot - he couldn’t move so much as an inch. Lotor kept staring down at him. In the shadowed darkness of the alcove, his eyes gleamed malevolently through the eye holes of his mask. His facade of politeness had twisted to one of sadism, mouth wide in a fanged smile.

“Go on, Paladin. What’s your decision?”

This time, Lance’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll do it. Sir.”

Lotor’s smile brightened. “An excellent decision. Now - ” he stepped back, still holding the knife to Lance’s throat, “ - kneel.”

Haltingly, Lance began to move downwards, and Lotor’s hand followed him, keeping the knife blade next to his cheek. The cold stone floor was hard on his knees and Lance looked up at Lotor, heart in his throat.

But instead of pulling down his pants, Lotor moved the knife, the blade catching a sheen of light that made it glint sliver. It just barely brushed Lance’s cheek. “Lick it.”

Lance carefully turned his head to look at the knife directly. The light shining on it made it almost look wet - but no, it wasn’t just the light, there was actually something on the blade. Lance caught a whiff of a smell that reminded him a little of honey and almonds, in a sickly sort of way.

A bolt of fear jolted down his spine. _Poison_. Lotor definitely wasn’t the type to be above pulling a trick like this, and God only knew what kind of horrible alien toxin he had smeared all over his blade. What would it do to him if he swallowed it?

“Didn’t you hear me, pet?” Lotor said in that mock-polite voice. “Lick. It.”

Lance made himself lap at the blade, hoping to avoid touching the liquid, but even that brief taste caught some of it. The taste wasn’t bad, but Lance shuddered as he did it anyway. Lotor held the blade in front of his mouth, unmoving, until Lance cleaned it all with tiny kitten-licks. By the time he was finished, all he could taste was that stale, sweet almond flavor, and his whole body was rigid with fear and humiliation. His eyes were starting to water.

He let a burst of relief as Lotor finally pulled the knife back from his face, but it was only so Lotor could undo the belt of his tunic. The belt fell loose around his waist, and Lotor parted the tunic to pull out his cock. It took Lance’s brain a moment to process the sight: it looked more like the brightly colored sex toys he’d seen in stores, flushed purple and covered with a multitude of thin ridges on the top, much thicker than his own if not much longer. Lance swayed backwards almost unconsciously before Lotor grabbed him by the hair, yanking his face closer to Lotor’s cock. He could feel the heat coming off of Lotor’s body, even smell him: the slightly smoky musk that seemed to be the usual for Galra males. When Lance had been with his previous partners, he’d always loved the part when they explored each other’s bodies and he got to discover the way they felt, the way they sounded, the way they smelled….it made him ill to think he might have enjoyed this at another time, if Lotor hadn’t forced him into it.

“I expect you to do a good job, Paladin.” Lotor pushed his cock against Lance’s lips, and once more Lance tentatively opened his mouth. “Worship it like it’s your only chance of leaving here, because it is.”

And that was what Lance did. He thought back to the porn vids he used to watch on Earth, pulling out every trick he could remember: kissing and sucking the head, using his hands to work the extra length, lapping over the ridges and wetting them with his saliva. But he couldn’t make himself look up at Lotor. He refused to think about how well his ‘performance’ was going over; he focused on his actions and nothing more, because it was the only way he could bear it. Soon he’d be done; soon he’d be out of here, safe at home on the castle-ship.

Evidently Lotor enjoyed it, because his cock grew harder, and the head began to let out blurts of what must have been pre-come. It was thin like human come, but faintly pink and blandly creamy. As Lance licked it away from his slit, Lotor let out a satisfied groan, and suddenly his hips shoved forward, forcing his cock fully into Lance’s mouth. Lance tried to tuck his lips over his teeth like he had learned, but Lotor pushed in regardless, giving Lance no time try and be delicate. It was all he could do to keep still as Lotor began to thrust in and out, jaw stretched to its full extent.

Now Lance couldn’t even focus on his actions and let his thoughts take him away. All he could think about or sense was Lotor’s cock in his mouth. It kept coming dangerously close to cutting off his air, and sometimes his tongue brushed against the veiny underside. The cock stuffed every inch of his mouth, so tight and full, heavy and hot…and he could still smell that delicious scent coming off Lotor’s body, the one that made him think of Lotor’s body covering him, getting that musk all over him, marked by Lotor’s smell and come and mouth…

Lotor bucked his hips particularly hard, and Lance abruptly broke out of his train of thoughts. _No_. No, he couldn’t be starting to enjoy this - he _couldn’t_. He let out an unhappy, choked moan around Lotor’s cock, and Lotor took the opportunity to grab Lance’s hair tighter and pull him in, until the tip of his cock pushed against the entrance to Lance’s throat. Lance gagged and shuddered, and when Lotor finally pulled out he coughed hard, rubbing at his sore lips. His mouth felt rubbed raw, the taste of Lotor’s pre-come lingering.

“Good boy,” Lotor said. He reached down and casually plucked the mask from Lance’s face, then pushed his cock against Lance’s cheek, leaving a trail of come and spit, and started to rub it against his face. Then something seemed to catch Lotor’s attention, and he looked to the side.

“Now, isn’t that a nice picture,” he said. Lance looked over with him, and finally got his first good look at the side of the alcove. Instead of another stone wall, most of it was formed by a single panel of glass - a mirror. He and Lotor were mostly hidden by shadow, but the light coming from under the curtain outlined them in gold; Lance could clearly see himself. He looked so small, crumpled at Lotor’s feet, with Lotor’s hands gripping his hair and Lotor’s cock rutting against his bare face. Small and weak and degraded. He should have felt even more sickened, but that awful arousal flared up inside him, making his cock twitch as it hardened and pressed against the seam of his pants. Lance somehow knew that this time it wasn’t going to go away.

Lotor glanced down at him, then paused, tilting his head to the side as he examined Lance. “Ah. It’s finally kicking in, isn’t it?”

Lance’s head jerked up in alarm. “What’s kicking in?”

“That taste of aphrodisiac I gave you,” Lotor said. “Just a precaution so I won’t lose your interest before I’m through with you.”

Horror and lust were battling inside of Lance - and lust was winning. Even though Lance knew it was artificial, arousal was still filling his body, making him crave Lotor’s touch. All he could think about was how much he wanted Lotor’s cock shoved down his throat again, or hot and firm in his hands…or rubbing between the cheeks of his ass, getting it all messy with pre-come. He whimpered as Lotor ignored his parted lips and kept rubbing his cock over his lips and cheeks, so close and tempting. The smell of it and the heat pulsing in his groin were making his head spin.

Lotor grinned again. “Sucking me off isn’t going to enough for you, isn’t it? Would you like to bend over for me instead?” His foot pushed between Lance’s thighs, and Lance flinched when his leather boot rubbed against the bulge in his pants. It made him want to throw up. It made him want _more_. “Come on, Paladin. Say it nicely.”

Cock throbbing, his lips and throat still sore, Lance swallowed back a sob and said, “ _Please_.”


End file.
